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Hardy, Thomas, 1840-1928

"The Mayor of Casterbridge"

But as I
like getting out of doors, I thought I would come and see first."
"It was my own thought."
"That shows we shall agree. Then can you come to-day? My house is so
hollow and dismal that I want some living thing there."
"I think I might be able to," said the girl, reflecting.
Voices were borne over to them at that instant on the wind and raindrops
from the other side of the wall. There came such words as "sacks,"
"quarters," "threshing," "tailing," "next Saturday's market," each
sentence being disorganized by the gusts like a face in a cracked
mirror. Both the women listened.
"Who are those?" said the lady.
"One is my father. He rents that yard and barn."
The lady seemed to forget the immediate business in listening to the
technicalities of the corn trade. At last she said suddenly, "Did you
tell him where you were going to?"
"No."
"O--how was that?"
"I thought it safer to get away first--as he is so uncertain in his
temper."
"Perhaps you are right....Besides, I have never told you my name. It is
Miss Templeman....Are they gone--on the other side?"
"No. They have only gone up into the granary."
"Well, it is getting damp here. I shall expect you to-day--this evening,
say, at six."
"Which way shall I come, ma'am?"
"The front way--round by the gate.


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